


This Ain't No Summer Romance

by InTheArmsofaThief



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Failwolf, Feelings!, Gen, M/M, Multi, Pack Feels, Stiles is kind of a bamf, attempt at fluff that turned into many many words, i'm really bad at writing fluff guys, not really cannon compliant but who cares, post season 2 but ignoring alpha pack everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheArmsofaThief/pseuds/InTheArmsofaThief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was the king of summer flings.  Everyone in Beacon Hills probably thought he was a virgin.  Fuck, they probably thought he’d never even kissed someone.  Which, hey, whatever.  Stiles didn’t care what other people thought about him, but they were wrong.  Stiles had kissed someone.  Stiles had kissed a lot of someones.  </p><p>Or the one where Stiles doesn't believe in dating but then feelings happens and he doesn't know how to deal with them.</p><p>And also fairies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I: Summer Lovin' (Had Me A Blast)

Stiles was the king of summer flings.  Everyone in Beacon Hills probably thought he was a virgin.  Fuck, they probably thought he’d never even kissed someone.  Which, hey, whatever.  Stiles didn’t care what other people thought about him, but they were wrong.  Stiles had kissed someone.  Stiles had kissed a lot of someones. 

It’s just, it was easier this way.  Stiles was a practical kind of guy.  He didn’t believe high school sweethearts would or could amount to anything more than a few good times, a broken heart, and then an awkward loss of friendship.  Someone you dated in high school wasn’t going to be the love of your life, so why bother dating?  Stiles wasn’t even sure he believed in love.

His rationale was simple.  Dating is a practice to find the person you’re going to marry.  High school romances never last.  People didn’t grow into their own and really knew what and who they want until they were at least twenty.  Ergo, there is absolutely no reason to date before college and fuck up some perfectly good friendships.

That being said, Stiles was still a hormonal teenage boy.  He had crushes and urges.  He just never acted on them with people at school.  Why make things awkward?  And, okay, so he’s been “in love” with Miss Lydia Martin since they were in third grade and publically pined over her, but Stiles considered that a safety measure.  First off, he knew his crush from third grade was definitely not someone he was going to marry, but she was smart and beautiful and he could see them being really good friends.  Also, she was way out of his league and in a different friend group so it was easy to just say things and let his heart not break because he knew she would never like him that way.  He knew _he’d_ never truly like _her_ that way.  So, as far as Stiles was concerned, she made a good school year distraction.

And he spent his summers in risk free relationships because everyone knows the guy or gal you hook up with at summer camp or on vacation is going to end once you’re out of a mile radius of each other.

Stiles had his first kiss when he was eleven.  He was having a day at the beach.  It was their first beach trip since his mom had passed away.   It had only been five months since the funeral, actually.  Stiles’s dad had fallen asleep in the sun and Stiles went to sulk under the boardwalk bitterly hoping his dad got a bad burn.  He loved his dad, true, but things weren’t the best since it was only the two of them now.

A girl with soft brown curls and a purple bikini with breasts that were just beginning to grow but were already past training bra stage sat next to him.  She had a small smirk on her lips, but her eyes were tentative and nervous.  She gave her name, Stacy, Ashley, Miranda, Stiles didn’t know anymore.  She was hiding from somebody, family members of some kind Stiles remembered, because it made him more upset.  She called him cute.  He told her his mom just died.  She kissed him.

It wasn’t anything monumental or sexy.  It was a couple of preteen kids pressing their lips together in a wet smack.  But it was nice.

Later that summer Stiles went to camp for a week.  With his first kiss already under his belt, he was confident in the girl department and ended up with a girlfriend for four days of camp.  Her name was Kath and she had long blonde hair and freckles and they held hands and kissed a lot.  For a four day relationship at age eleven, it was pretty damn sweet.

His twelfth summer was spent playing rec league baseball.  Stiles made it onto the traveling team, which was a big surprise.  He had trouble paying attention to what his teammates were doing, but coach put him on right field and Stiles caught more pop flies than anybody.  His dad could never come to away games, and under supervision of his coach, Stiles found it easy to slip away and mingle.  While the kids on his own team were all vague friends from school, Stiles found himself staring perhaps a little too long at some of the opposing team members.  Stiles kissed his first boy in the woods behind the concession stands after warm ups three hours away from Beacon Hills. 

The next summer he didn’t make it onto the team.  He ended up spending a month up in Tacoma with his grandparents.  Stiles brought lots of books because he hadn’t convinced his dad to get him a laptop yet and as much as he loved Gammy Di and Bumpa Joe, they acted like they were straight out of the 1940s and god were they boring.  He was not expecting to be introduced to the nice neighbor girl Mandy, who had a pool in her back yard that was obscured from view of any window in Stiles’s grandparents’ house (he checked) as well as parents that were often at work until late at night.

Stiles spent time running different bases that summer.  It was new for both of them and a little awkward, but by the time Stiles headed back home he thoroughly explored a girl’s boobs and she had even touched his dick.

The next year during school, Stiles became best friends with Scott.  The topic of girls came up, sure, but only ever the girls around them in classes.  Stiles talked about Lydia and dropped hints that he may also find guys attractive, unsure how to come out as bi to a guy he didn’t want to spook.  He wasn’t attracted to Scott and did not want to give that impression.  Scott, bless his earnest soul, didn’t pick up on any of it.

That summer Stiles spent his time riding his bike with Scott and playing more rec league.  He didn’t bother trying for the traveling team and found he really didn’t like playing baseball all that much anyway.  He looked for something that had more running because it was a good way to burn energy and decided on soccer for the fall and lacrosse for the spring, but Scott’s asthma prevented him from playing either well. 

But Stiles was fourteen and he didn’t kiss anyone that summer and it kind of sucked but at the same time he found himself with a best friend he wouldn’t give up for the world.   They started high school and Stiles turned fifteen at the beginning of the school year and Scott turned fifteen closer to the end of it and both of them spent games for lacrosse on the bench, but it was cool because they were together.

That summer Scott got to go to Mexico.  Stiles was jealous, except for the fact he was visiting his dying grandma.  Stiles went to the beach with his dad one weekend and got to second with a girl behind a surf shack.  He was sent off to camp for a week because his dad worried about not being home enough and one of his bunkmates blew him behind the archery field.  Stiles felt like bit of a slut, but it wasn’t like he was just going to these people and picking them up.  They were young and it was summer and there was bumbling flirting and ice cream and secret glances that built up quickly to a make out session. 

When Stiles got back from camp, though, his dad had that look on his face that meant either a tough case or something reminded him of his wife.  A week later, he was sent up to his grandparents until school started.  He worried about his dad for a bit, but was soon distracted.

Mandy had grown even bustier and told him she wanted her first time to be with someone she could trust but without the huge pressure of being perfect for someone you were in love with.

By the time school started back up, Stiles was SO not a virgin.  But it didn’t _really_ matter because no one knew.  Stiles wasn’t the type to brag about sleeping with someone and even if he were, the chances of anyone at Beacon Hills believing Stiles hooked up with someone so far away they’d never meet her was pretty much zero. 

So school went on and Stiles continued to admire Lydia from afar and he turned sixteen and his dad got him a car and how freaking awesome is that!  Sure, it was used and a little beat up, but it worked.  Stiles drove Scott to school and didn’t make the soccer team again and he thought about maybe taking the car some long weekend and going somewhere with Scott to pick up chicks and release some of this unbearable, constant, teenage urges with a real person and not just his own hand.  But he didn’t.  That involved more gas money than Stiles currently had.  Scott got a job at the vet’s office and Stiles did miscellaneous work for his neighbors in hopes of taking a road trip together, but winter came and they decided to wait after the holidays. 

However, they ended up spending most of their money on Christmas so they had to push off the road trip until they could afford it, which was looking like the summer by this point. 

Then everything fell to shit.

Because one: werewolves were something Stiles had to incorporate into his everyday vocabulary and two: Scott got a girlfriend.

Sure, okay, maybe those two things shouldn’t be counted the same level of fuck this shit, but they were.  Because even with everything that came along with the scary ass werewolves in his daily life, Scott included, Scott having a girlfriend probably shifted his view of the world just as drastically.

Because Stiles had never wanted a girlfriend.  Stiles had never wanted a boyfriend.  Stiles merely wanted people he thought were nice and pretty so he could pass the time with them and expel all the crazy hormonal bullshit teenagers had to go through and then maybe in college find someone serious to fall in love with.  But Scott was in love and he was only sixteen and Stiles watched on, supportive but dying a little inside as his best friend found someone else.  And Stiles realized how great having someone else could be.  Sure, friends were great, but watching what Scott and Allison had was like a special kind of torture.  Suddenly Stiles wanted to have someone look at him as if he were the world, someone he could relish in their mere existence and listen to his tirades not just because they’re used to it like Scott but because they find his words fascinating.  And fuck it all to hell.

If Stiles tried a little harder than usual to attract Lydia, no one really noticed.

But soon it was summer again and there was for once no threat looming over his head and Scott was single even if he was eternally pledged to Allison and Stiles felt _safe_.  Summer was his time.  Summer meant being free of social constraints laid down by his peers at school.  Summer meant Stiles could have the chance to fuck his anxiety away.

Except Derek Hale put a wrench in that. 

Sure, Stiles had beat off to the guy before.  Stiles would be more concerned about himself if he hadn’t.  Derek was a little taller than him and broad and oh my god those muscles.  Derek’s jaw line alone did things to Stiles’s nether regions that make Stiles want to write bodice ripper paper backs devoted to them.  But Derek was also a bit of a jerk and old enough for Stiles to feel creepy if anything ever happened and Stiles wasn’t going to touch that angst filled drama queen with a Batman complex with a ten foot pole. 

But somehow over the last five months of knowing the broody werewolf, Stiles, for the first time EVER developed an honest to god crush on someone from Beacon Hills.  He found himself thinking of indigo eyes and the smell of leather in completely non sexual fantasies. 

Stiles was so fucked.

Stiles was so fucked because Derek was _always around_.  Sure, it made sense.  The pack was making efforts of being a functioning pack and that meant hanging out with their alpha, but still.  Stiles would run into Derek at the grocery store and mentally pack rat information on his brand of milk and how he contemplated different types of cheese.  Stiles would run into Derek at the gas station as they filled up their tanks and damn did the guy look good next to that sleek ride.  Stiles would suffer through pack outings where it was a no shirts allowed party for the werewolves.  Even Erica ran around with just a sports bra on half the time and COME ON! 

Lydia would tell him to just enjoy the show as they lazed on back while the wolves trained but that was exactly the problem.  Stiles was enjoying the show.  And it was with not only with somebody who he knew, it was with Derek fucking Hale, the broodiest, deadliest werewolf in town… that looked so good in those jeans and every once in a while would smile and look at the pack fondly and it did things to Stiles that Stiles did not want to think about.

It was one thing being invisible to Lydia all these years.  Stiles knew it was a pipe dream from the start.  He still thought her perfection, but there were never these… feelings.  Watching Derek was just not fair.

“What’s it like being in love for someone who isn’t Scott?” Stiles asked Lydia one day, careful to keep his eyes on her so she wouldn’t notice who he was thinking about.  “Like, how do you know it’s love and not just infatuation?”

Lydia looked him over appraisingly.  There was a gleam in her eyes that told Stiles she knew he was asking for a reason deeper that curiosity.  Lydia had figured out he was bi and was so far the only person he discussed it with.  She huffed, unable to read him.  Hanging around werewolves really made him good at hiding his thoughts from his expressive face.  “I suppose,” Lydia started, “it has to do with how far you’re willing to go for them, and how much you need from them.  When Jackson and I broke up, I realized how much I needed him to just look at me the way he had done before.  And while I could continue living without it, it was just another thing making me a wreck.  It wasn’t a want.  It was a need.”

After a few moments, Lydia looked over at Stiles, who was then watching the pack of wolves.  “I could fix you up with someone, if you wanted,” she offered.

Stiles shook his head, eyes sweeping over Derek quickly before sighing.  “We should spend some time brushing up on Latin,” he offered, their code to talk away from super hearing.  “You know, just so I don’t forget everything over the summer.  I’m sure you’ll be fine, but.”

It was a few hours later when they were at a coffee shop on the other side of town, confident the rest of the pack was still by the preserve, that Lydia gave Stiles a hard look and demanded information.  “You have a crush on one of them, don’t you?  Who is it?”

Stiles rolled his eyes and ordered an iced coffee before returning Lydia’s gaze.  “Yes and I’m not telling you.  I think I just need to try it with a guy and get it out of my system, you know?  I’m just caught up in everything but I really just need some action.”

Lydia gave a disapproving eyebrow before buying herself a scone and a bottle of juice.  “So it’s not Erica,” she surmised, ignoring the rest of his statement.

“No, it’s not Erica.  Can you please leave it at that?”  Lydia shrugged in a way that in no way made Stiles feel safe.  “I’m serious, Lyds.  I just need an uncomplicated summer romance to stave me off until school starts again and I’m distracted by homework and sports and, let’s be real, not dying or whatever.”

Lydia laughed curtly, “Like you can do uncomplicated.  Especially for you first time.  You’d get caught up and fall in love before you’d get anywhere near second.  Which means you’d have to spend a lot of time with them.  Which means it’s going to have to be someone I set you up with or with one of the pack.”  Lydia flipped her hair and smirked. 

Stiles raised an eyebrow and shook his head.  He sometimes forgets how everyone’s perception of his love life is the one he shows them.  “That’s the thing, Lydia.  I don’t want to fall in love with anyone.  All the years I was chasing after you, I knew it was just an infatuation.  You were- you _are_ beautiful and smarter than belief and I love that about you, but I was never actually in love with you.”

She scoffed but Stiles waved his hand in front of his face briefly in dismissal.  She seemed to catch something because her eyes narrowed dangerously, calculating.  “But you’re having the feelings for whoever it is you’re crushing on?”

Stiles sighed.  “Yes, which is why I need someone else to get it out of my system.”

Lydia rolled her eyes.  “That’s not how feelings work, Stiles.”

“That’s how I’m going to make them work,” he told her flatly.  “Wanna do a beach trip Sunday?  Wake up early, drive for four hours, spend the day in the sun with the waves?  We can bring Jackson and Scallison.  You guys do gross couply things and I hook up with a random beach bum?”

“You really think it’ll be that simple?” she asked skeptically.

Stiles smirked.  “I only don’t have game at school because people actually know me.”  It was obvious Lydia didn’t believe him, but she agreed none the less.  She wanted a nice day of sunbathing anyway.

And it worked.  Stiles slipped away while Scott was oblivious to the world when there was an Allison in a bikini (who totally flaunted for him despite being “separated”) and Jackson never gave a damn about Stiles in the first place.  It was easy, and Stiles was actually fairly well toned having hung around freaking ripped ass werewolves for such a long time.  If anything, he actually looked stronger than Scott, so he didn’t feel self-conscious walking the boardwalk in just his swim trunks alone.

He took his fake to concession stand selling beer and bought himself one and hung out, looking over the beach by his lonesome when he was approached by some older (by like maybe three years, definitely a college student) guy and after some light flirting and a game of Frisbee that somehow turned into a tackle sport, they found themselves tangled up and making out and Stiles grinned widely when the other man, Brian, whispered hotly in his ear, _do you wanna head to mine?  I have a hotel room not two blocks away_.

Two hours later he got a call from Lydia saying Scott had actually noticed his absence and he better come back sporting a good story.  Stiles left the guy’s room, leaving a note to his sleeping partner, and whistled his way back to the jeep. 

He spotted Lydia already loading their beach gear, Jackson doing most of the work.  The blonde werewolf, however, scrunched his nose and turned.  Stiles had taken a quick dip in the ocean before meeting up with the super senses, but Jackson still gave him a quizzical look.  “Why do you smell like someone else?”

Stiles shrugged and took the last bag from Lydia.  “Got caught up playing Frisbee with some people I met.  Hugged them goodbye because I’m cool.  Now I smell like them?”

Jackson didn’t seem to quite believe it, but accepted the answer.  Lydia however was near the point of gaping.  “When we get back,” she said pointedly, “I need to show you the proper declensions the number six, by the way.  I was looking over your work and you had some things wrong.”

Stiles shook his head at the innuendo that nobody else would get.  There are no declensions for the number six in Latin.  The number six in Latin is ‘sex’.  “Trust me, Lyds, I know the number six.”

She huffed.  “I would still like to review.”

He smirked in reply.  “Sure, sure.”

“Oh my god, do you two ever talk about anything besides Latin?  I know the sun’s setting soon, but we’re still on a vacation day,” Jackson groaned, crawling into the back of the car.  Lydia followed him and Stiles climbed into the driver’s, asking where Scott and Allison got to.  Jackson let out a loud whistle through his teeth and a responding “GOD DAMMIT JACKSON!” from Scott a bit away came promptly.

He and Allison came from round a couple cars down, having taken a moment to make out.  Allison seemed a bit abashed for her behavior, but Scott was glowing.  Odd word chose, Stiles thought, but accurate.  His puppy dog face scrambled into shotgun while Allison squeezed on the far side of Lydia.  “So where’d you run off to?”  Scott asked, while still struggling with the seat belt.  “Every time I came out of the water Lydia said you had just gone off for food or something.”  He managed to click himself in with a satisfied grin before scrunching his nose.  “And why do you smell funny?”

Stiles was already back out of the parking spot.  “Having fun and sweat.  Now you guys made sure you have everything, right?”  There was a chorus of ‘yes’s from his passengers and Scott pulled Stiles’s shirt from his bag, which Stiles pulled on at their first red light.  “Now kids, did you have a good time at the beach?” Stiles asked.  Allison leaned forward and smacked the back of Stiles’s head and they all laughed.

“Yes, Mom,” Jackson muttered.

“Oh, shut it,” Stiles said.  “Just wondering what you all did while I was away.”

It was enough of a prompt to get Scott going.  The ride back was of stories of the day, since they hadn’t really spent much time together.  And Stiles had enough Frisbee talk that nothing sounded like he had just rolled out of bed with a near stranger before driving them home.  Time flew quickly though, and soon enough they were rolling up to the Hale house just in time for the weekly bonfire. 

And this was the test, wasn’t it?  He parked the car, made sure everyone took their stuff, and headed for the fire pit Boyd had started.  Stiles just had to wait for Derek to join them and see if his crush was as frivolous as he thought it was.

“Aw, no fair!  You guys went to the beach without us?”  Erica whined from her seat next to the flames.  “You’re taking me next time!”

“Sure, no problem,” Stiles smiled.  “I just really wanted a day away and figured I’d bring couples A and B.”

“We’re not dating!” Allison exclaimed from where she was packing her car she had left there that morning.  No one really listened.  It was a daily claim, but Scott and Allison still acted like ‘Scott and Allison’ so it didn’t make a difference. 

“Had I brought less, it would have been awkward, had I gone by myself it would have been pathetic, and had I brought more it would have been a pack bonding trip and everyone would insist on coming and then I wouldn’t have gotten my day away,” he explained.  Erica just shrugged in response, already over having been left out.

Stiles pulled Lydia to sit next to him on the far side of the fire, pulling out his phone.  He knew she wanted info now and, to be honest, it was kind of fun having someone to talk to about this.  Of course, that meant nonvocal communication only.  Stupid werewolves.  Stiles pulled up the photo he took of Brain while he was still sleeping in the afterglow and handed it over to Lydia.

“Damn, boy,” she muttered. 

Erica looked over with a sly grin.  “What?” she asked, always looking for gossip.

“Nothing,” Stiles laughed, taking his phone back and locking it.  He didn’t even notice Derek stalking out of the house and over to the fire. 

“My image of you is totally blown,” Lydia said.  It was hushed, but, again, werewolves.

“ _What_?” Erica pressed again.

“Nothing,” Lydia insisted before turning back to Stiles.  “We are so discussing this later.”

Stiles smirked.  “Yeah, yeah.”  He glanced over at the others, who were giving him confused looks, but he accidentally caught Derek’s eye and- Oh god.  His nostrils were flaring and- He knows.  He can smell it.  The others could pick up the scent of someone else despite having dunked quick in the ocean afterwards but Derek could tell.  He knows.  Of course he knows.

Stiles quickly looked away, willing himself to not blush.  Lydia grabbed his attention and mouthed “totally blown,” again. 

“Later,” he said.  It was miraculously dropped for the rest of the night.  It was three days, though, until he and Lydia got a chance to be alone.  They had just ordered their coffees when they both got a mass text from Erica.  **Derek’s acting grumpier than usual.  Anyone know what’s up?** He looked at Lydia and shrugged.  She responded in kind but Stiles could see the calculating look behind her eye.  They both sent a quick no in reply and sat down.

“So,” Lydia began.  Stiles steeled himself for the interrogation.  “So, you slept with this guy?” she asked, her excitement getting the better of her.

“Brian.  And, yes.”

The red head near squealed around her coffee.  “Was he your first?”

Stiles shrugged, already feeling uncomfortable.  “My first guy, technically.”

“Technically!?”

Lydia drilled him.  No, he hadn’t been a virgin for a while.  This was far from his first sexual encounter, even with a dude.  He told her about Mandy and his camp romances and beach flings.  Lydia just kept shaking her head in a slow and steady back and forth at such unbelievable information.  Her lips curled up and Stiles suddenly felt like prey, more so than any time he had _actually been_ prey.

“Were you top or bottom?”

He nearly choked on his coffee.  “ _Lydia!_ ” he hissed.

“What?” she asked unabashedly. 

Stiles could feel the heat rise on his face and burn the back of his neck.  “When it came to that,” he began slowly, hiding behind his cup, “he said he was versatile and I said I had to drive for four hours later, so.”  He made a vague hand motion that Lydia ignored.  He couldn’t believe he was saying any of this.  “So, I was top.  Which was probably a good thing,” he continued, “because being ass sore would be twice as bad my first time, right?”

Lydia snorted and Stiles couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction. “Talk about image blown,” he teased.

“Oh, shut up.  I’m a perfect lady.”  Lydia popped in the last chunk of her scone and smiled, brushing her fingertips together daintily to clear them of crumbs.  “Is it Isaac?” she asked once her mouth was empty.  Stiles groaned.  “It’s not Jackson, is it?”

“Ew, no.  I hate Jackson.”

Lydia scoffed.  “No you don’t.”

“I kind of do,” he insisted.

“So do I.”

Stiles conceded her point but still had to argue.  “But, no.  Not Jackson.  Again, ew.”  His phone chirped and he was pleasantly surprised to see a text from Brian.  “Question.  Would it be bad to start an adult relationship with someone who thinks I’m 21?”

“Why don’t you let people see this side of you?” she asked.  “We would have been friends so much sooner.”

He just shrugged and downed the rest of his coffee.


	2. Part II: Tell Me More, Tell Me More

The next time Stiles sees Derek is about a week later when they’re all over at the Hale house, so duh.  Of course he’s going to see Derek.  As per usual, he and Lydia are sitting on the back porch and watching on while all the wolves run around in some form of training.  And Derek is shirtless.  Which, Stiles knows, is also as per usual, but it seemed to have come off quicker than normal.  And yep, still finding the man very attractive.

Feelings front is still up in the air.

Stiles feels his phone buzz in his pocket and he quickly pulls it out to check.  It was from Lydia.  **Is it Derek?**   Stiles could feel his face being to burn.  “Oh my god, it is,” she said in wonder next to him.

“Not a _word_ ,” he hissed, carefully avoiding looking at anyone out on the lawn.  Lydia’s mouth just curled into a perfect Cheshire grin.  “I mean it,” he warned.

She shrugged, the grin not leaving her face.  “Who do you take me for, Stilinski?”  Stiles’s phone buzzed again, but this time it was from Brian.  Lydia read the contact and her eyes glinted mischievously.  “Are you still gonna?”  She spoke as if it was only half a sentence, and it was.  The ‘meet up with him still’ an obvious continuation for the two of them.  Stiles and Brian had been texting and he went to the State college only forty-five minutes away and really, that wasn’t a long commute. 

“Yeah, probably,” he admitted.  “Might as well.”

Lydia smacked his arm lightly but then glanced over to the rough housing boys (and Erica) and looked thoughtful.  “Why don’t you just?” she said, gesturing vaguely to the pack.  _Hit that_.

Stiles snorted.  “It’s not like that.  Besides.”  He scrunched his and frowned a bit.  _He couldn’t like me like that_.

“You don’t know that,” she replied, reading him like a book.  They had gotten very skilled at this.

“It doesn’t matter,” he told her.  “I don’t do,” he gesticulated a bit wildly around him, somehow indicating _relationships_ and _feelings_ and _people who actually know me_ all in one sweeping flail. 

“I don’t see why not,” she scoffed, her eyes roaming over Jackson’s body with a smirk.  “Lots of perk.”

Stiles laughed.  “Like I could ever live up to your honest to god Disney moment.”  He then makes the mistake of looking over at the pack and catching sight of Derek.  Glistening with sweat.  And giving a shy, approving smile to Isaac for whatever had just transpired.  Stiles almost whimpered at the sight.  It was a combination of wet dream and adorable kittens that Stiles wanted to puke. 

“Wow, you really do have them,” Lydia commented, poking Stiles’s cheek with a perfectly manicured finger.  “They’re important,” she said earnestly, “you shouldn’t ignore that for something easier.”

Stiles huffed.  “I’m not ignoring, I’m snuffing out.  Big difference.  Less angst.  But, in order for said snuffing to happen..”  He waved his phone in front of Lydia’s face.  “So, that.”

She rolled her eyes.  “If you insist.  But I want details.”

Erica’s voice came cutting through their conversation.  “AND I WANT TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!”  She came running over.  “This totally has to do with whatever you were giggly about at the bonfire,” she proclaimed, eyes shining with excitement.  “What are you hiding?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles caught Derek shuffling uncomfortably, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet before going over to Scott to run new drills.  “We’re talking about someone you don’t know,” Lydia said easily, waving Erica away.  It was the truth, after all.  “This is my secret, so shoo.”

Erica pouted but ran back to training.  Stiles pulled out his phone and texted **YOUR secret?** to Lydia.  She shrugged and a moment later his phone buzzed.  **I like being the only one to know this.  Ergo, making it MY secret.**

“You’re so fucking clever,” he muttered.

“I know,” she preened. 

The training session turned into a picnic somewhere around three that afternoon and Stiles was struggling not having the feels.  Because Erica was right, Derek was being a bit more of a grump than usual and Stiles found himself wanting to smooth out his frown lines and settle his nervous feet shuffle and _fuck_ lick him all over because the dude still hadn’t put his shirt on. 

It was messing with him.  He quickly pulled out his phone and began texting Brian.

The thing is, this pattern continued. 

Despite trying to ground out the crush that Stiles was refusing to let grow, despite sneaking off to Redding for a day and spending it fooling around with a completely different hot older man, despite listing all the things that annoys Stiles about Derek every time they were in a room together ( _His stupid hair and perfect jaw line.  People aren’t allowed to be that attractive in real life.  He spends all his time working out.  Does he have any real hobbies?  I bet he’s never even_ seen _Star Wars._ ) he found his heart beating just that much faster whenever he was around.

Because Derek was stupid.  He would buy them all ice cream and break up fights between Erica and Scott over Isaac.  He was behaving extremely diplomatic with the hunters.  He had days where he was extra scowly but would make a point of helping Stiles out with the food during meetings, and making sure he’s saved a portion after the wolves dig in.  He makes room for Stiles on the couch during movie nights and tosses popcorn at Jackson when the snarks during the dialogue.  The next time they run into each other at the grocery store, they’re checking out at the same time and before Derek leaves, he tosses a Reese’s at Stiles because _he bought him chocolate for no reason other than it was a nice thing to do_.  And just UGH!

Stiles wanted to hate Derek for how much of a not douche-bag he was being.

This leads him to coming over to Lydia’s at eleven-thirty at night with a copy of the Notebook and asking if she has any alcohol because his dad would notice if he finished up the bottle of whiskey.  They play the movie and Lydia breaks open a bottle of wine which Stiles grumbles won’t get him drunk but still says thanks because at least it’s alcohol.  Then he promptly beings freaking out and telling her all about his feelings he’s been trying so hard to ignore.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to do it.  You can’t just ignore feelings,” she huffed into her wine glass. 

“I thought I could,” he whined, “I really did.  I never had problems with it before.”

She shook her head and gave a knowing look.  “You never had real feelings before.”  Stiles sighed.  She was probably right, like always.  “How are things with Brian going?” she prompted.

He shrugged.  “Brian’s kind of boring.  Like, we had a conversation and diner one time.  It wasn’t really a date, more like a respite refueling whatever.  We made sandwiches.  I can tell you more about the sandwich than I can about him.”  Lydia gave him a significant look which he waved off.  “But the sex is really good.  It’s kind of cool that I’m the top.  And, I mean, I like it, but I like sex with girls, so that doesn’t surprise me.  But I don’t really wanna try being bottom with him.  Is that weird?”

“I don’t have a dick.  I cannot answer that question.”  Her eyes lit up.  “We should call Danny over.”  Stiles just shook his head and sighed.  Lydia poured him more wine and then brushed his hair back to get his attention.  “You have two options,” she told him.  “Either: A, you fess up to Derek and tell him all about your feelings.  Then, if he says yes, yaay I don’t have to deal with you pinning.”

“I’m not pinning!” he protested.  Lydia hushed his sharply.

“If he says no, having heard it will make dealing with it easier.”

“Of course he’s going to say no.”

Lydia rolled her eyes.  “If you don’t hear it, you’ll still hope.”

“I still hoped with you,” he protested.

“You didn’t have real feelings for me,” she countered.

Stiles sighed and chugged what was in his cup.  “What’s option two.”

“ _B_ ,” she said pointedly before softening her features and running her hand through his hair again, “is let me set you up on an honest to god date.  If Brian is super boring, it’s not helping.  I would like to think I know you well enough by now to find someone you’d like.”

“But I don’t want to date _anyone_ ,” he complained. 

“You’re such a baby.”

By the end of the night Stiles relents and agrees to be set up on a date.  Of course, he had to cancel because that was conveniently when HE WAS KIDNAPPED BY FAIRES.  Just, you know, the usual.  And, okay, he wasn’t exactly _kidnapped_ , more like he was out training with Scott, playing bait for him to practice tracking, and he stumbled into a mushroom circle.  And Stiles knew how mushroom circles worked, scientifically.  But apparently that wasn’t grounds enough to dismiss them as also being FREAKING MAGICAL.  He didn’t know where he was, but he had his phone on him and stupidly the first person he called was Lydia.

“So,” he told her over the phone, “I think I just got kidnapped by fairies.  Can you cancel that date?”  It should worry him how nonchalant he was about the whole potentially dangerous situation he was in, but really.  The shit that happened to him.

She put a very put upon sigh.  “Stilinski, where are you?”

He looked around the vast clearing and shrugged, despite knowing she couldn’t see him.  He wasn’t anywhere he recognized.  “I could be in New Zealand for all I know.  Except, no.  It’s still the same time of day,” he said, looking at his shadow.  “So, I can’t be _that_ far away.”

Lydia made an aggravated noise over the phone.  “Your phone’s still working, dumbass.  It would relocate to a new zone.  Check the weather app and it will tell you the local weather and therefore what town you’re in, at least.”

Stiles grinned.  “You’re a genius.”

“I know.”

Stiles pulled his phone away from his face and, careful not to disconnect, scrolled to the weather and waited for it to recalibrate.  “Huh,” he said, reading the screen before bringing the receiver back to his face.  “I’m only a town over.  Come save me!” he pleaded.

“I have a hair appointment.  I’m calling Derek though.  He needs to know about the fairy portal anyway.” 

“Derek!” he whined.  “Call Scott.  He’s probably all confused because we were training when it happened.  _He_ should know first, right?” 

“Calling Derek,” she sing-songed and Stiles just _knew_ this had nothing to do with him being the alpha. 

“ _Lydia_.”

“Bye!”

The call quickly ended.  “Great!” he yelled out to the open air.  A few birds flew out of a tree, but other than that he was met with silence.  Quieter, he mumbled, “Just great.”

Stiles stumbled around, trying to find a trace of where he was other than what his phone said.  It felt like he had transported to the fields heroines walk in Jane Austen novels.  Well, okay, he’d only seen _Pride and Prejudice_ because Keira Knightly, but still.  It was an apt comparison.  He made his way closer to the tree line.  As someone versed in dealings with supernatural creatures, you’d think he knew that the woods were crawling with them and therefore should be avoided, but the cover of trees felt more like a safe home at this point than the open field.    

Of course, it’s not safe.  The forest is where the fairies were.  Around the time he was good and lost and couldn’t find his way back to the clearing if he tried, Stiles spotted them.  And they weren’t like tinker-bells.  They were things from the _Spiderwick Chronicles_ or the other Holly Black series where they are mean and malicious and, shut up it’s a good series even if it is a supernatural romance kind of.  He should have known better, really. 

The fact that he could see them threw them off for a minute, but then they were pretty gung-ho about carving his eyes out.  Luckily, while being supernatural creatures they didn’t have the kind of supernatural speed the werewolves had and he was successfully outrunning them at the moment.  That is, until Derek shows up.

“Oh, thank god,” he pants, gripping his knees to stop himself from falling over in exhaustion.  Derek just quirks an eyebrow and asks pointedly what he’s running from, to which Stiles squawks indignantly.  “The _fairies_ dude!” 

Derek’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “I only smell and hear you, Stiles.  And Scott is checking out the mushroom ring, but nobody else entering it has poofed them to a random location,” he said, as if Stiles disappearing was his own fault. 

Stiles felt his face fall in dread.  “You’re kidding, right?”  This was extra important, because in the short seconds they’ve been chatting away _Stiles_ can hear their chipmunk sounding war cries. 

Derek gave a blank look asking _why would I be kidding?_ Stiles’s heart rate kicked up a few notches, first from Derek’s stupid face giving him stupid feelings which were stupidly inappropriate at the moment, and second because over Derek’s shoulder Stiles spotted the glowing eyes of creatures that surely wanted to at BEST blind him. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna die,” Stiles sputtered, noticing more and more pairs of eyes creeping out of the underbrush.  Derek rolled his eyes and began walking away with an air of ‘follow me’, causing Stiles to panic.  “No, don’t go!” he yelled, reaching out for Derek.  The moment he touched Derek’s arm, the werewolf froze.  Stiles dropped his hand immediately, adrenaline scaring out of provoking Derek even though FAIRIES!  A second later, however, Derek was gripping Stiles’s wrist and looking around frantically.

“Holy shit,” Derek muttered.  For a few moments Derek gripped and released Stiles’s wrist in rapid succession while darting his eyes from one fairy to another, nostrils faring wildly.  “Holy _shit_ ,” he repeated.  Finally (although, really, it had only been two seconds at most) Derek grabbed Stiles in a death grip and roared, his face shifting.  Some of the fay scattered, but others advanced.  In a swift movement, Derek swung Stiles onto his back.  “Keep your hand on my neck so I can see them!” he ordered, and Stiles tried not to revel in the sensation of Derek’s skin through his panic. 

Then they were off.  Derek was racing through the forest, clawing his way through fairies and creepy whatever things that wanted to gouge Stiles’s eyes out.  Stiles squeezed his eyes shut as if that could protect them better, clinging to Derek for dear life.  It felt like hours later they were at the side of the road, the sound of evil chipmunks still chasing them, but hey, salvation _,_ because Derek’s car was parked in the ditch.  He all but threw Stiles into the passenger seat before rounding to the driver’s side.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” Derek gasped, mild panic still reading in his eyes as he gunned the engine.

“Fairies wanted to blind me or maybe kill me because apparently my so called spark equals the sight and they don’t like that,” Stiles said in a rush.

There was a few moments of silence before Derek let out a sound of disbelief.  “Of course,” he huffed and then shifted in his seat with a frown, pulling onto the highway.  “I think I got hit with something.”

Stiles looked over and began to get antsy.  Derek didn’t look good.  His face was growing pale and sweat was beading on his forehead.  He looked sick.  “Derek, pull over.  I’m driving us home.”  He knew whatever was affecting Derek couldn’t be good when the alpha complied without a word.  Five minutes into Stiles driving, Derek was asleep.  “This cannot be good,” Stiles muttered to himself.    

He drove them all the way back to Derek’s and only had to call twice that “NO THIS IS SERIOUS GET YOUR BUTS OUT HERE” for the resident werewolves to help him drag the alpha into the house and lie him on the couch. 

“What happened,” Lydia demanded, cutting over the growing volume of confusion. 

“I DON’T KNOW!” Stiles screamed again, frustrated.  They hadn’t let him actually _answer_ their questions before arguments kept springing up and more questions, etc., etc.  Stiles took a deep breath and continued.  “I got magically transported via fairy circle to the meadow apparently a bunch of fairies live in.  And, oh!  I can see fairies, I’m assuming because of my ‘spark’ or whatever shit, but Derek, _another mythical creature_ , cannot.  Unless, of course, there is skin to skin contact.  He had to fight off fairies wearing a Stilnski backpack!  But, apparently, he got hit, and he’s knocked like motherfucking Sleeping Beauty.  Okay!  That’s it.”  He panted heavily at the end of his rant. 

Lydia gave him a tight smile and squinted her eyes.  “You done?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, nodding a bit, “think so.”  He clapped his hands together and began delegating research.  It was probably four hours later that Lydia shut her book saying “Found it,” like this was the silverware draw at a friend’s house.  “All very fairy-tale, to be honest.  Which,” she sighed with an annoyed look, “makes sense, considering.  Although I will say, they sure spruced up the truth even before Disney got a hold of it.”

“What?” Isaac asked. 

Boyd rolled his eyes.  “Who knows with her.”

Lydia marched over the couch where Derek hadn’t so much as twitched and flicked his nose.  “It’s a sleeping spell.  You were right, Stiles, when you said like Sleeping Beauty, so that’s what I looked up.  However it is not the pain of childbirth nor true love’s first kiss that will break the spell.”

“Childbirth?” Erica exclaimed, her face scrunching in horrored confusion.

“Educate yourself, Reyes,” Lydia said, with a tight face before turning back to Stiles.  “He needs a virgin’s kiss.  Because there’s something special about depriving yourself.”

Jackson laughed and Stiles frowned.  “Guess Stilinski is gonna have to smooch the pooch.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes.  “Really?  _Really_ , Lizard-boy.  Smooch the pooch?”

Erica smirked.  “Come on, Stiles.  Gotta get some lovin’ on.”

“Ew, guys,” Scott whined.

“Kiss him, kiss him,” Isaac fake chanted before giggling.

Stiles rolled his eyes, silently thanking Boyd’s silence and the fact that Peter wasn’t here.  Peter right now would be _terrible_.  “It wouldn’t work,” he told them, jaw tight and nostrils flaring.

“What?” Jackson scoffed. 

Lydia quirked an eyebrow and gave one of her devilish smirks that Stiles had always admired.  “He means,” she said icily, “that Stiles kissing Derek wouldn’t work because Stiles isn’t a virgin.”

There was a cacophony of ‘ _what’s_ and ‘ _ha’s_ and ‘ _yeah right’s_ and ‘ _please! With who?_ ’ and _‘Stiles!?’_ and general laughter.  Stiles could feel his face burning.

“God, guys, didn’t realize I was so unattractive and disgusting.”  Then he stormed off and out and into his jeep and tried not to cry on the way home because _god_ he knew he had a persona of someone with no experience and he had never bother correcting people, but that was just harsh.  That was them acting like nobody would even think about sleeping with him.

And even though he knew for a fact they wrong, it still stung.

Luckily, he didn’t cry. It made him feel better about himself, if only slightly. 

When he got home, there was a text from Lydia saying that she schooled them all and made Isaac kiss Derek. 

“Isaac’s a virgin?” he muttered, feeling slightly better.  


	3. Part III: You're The One That I Want

“You’re not unattractive or disgusting!” were the first words out of Scott’s mouth as he rolled into Stiles bedroom via his window.  “I just never thought you had because you never told me!” he snapped then promptly pulled Stiles into a headlock all before Stiles could even flail at the initial shock of random person climbing through his bedroom window. 

“Scott!” Stiles yelped and then promptly begged forgiveness.  “I’m sorry, dude!  It just never mattered and then I thought you wouldn’t believe me and then it became a thing to hide I don’t know!”

Scott rubbed his knuckles over Stiles head where his hair was slowly growing out for the first time in years.  “And _why_ did Lydia know but not me?”

Stiles sighed and gave one last valiant attempt at struggling out of Scotts grip before deflating in defeat.  “Because she figured out I was bi and confronted me about it and it made it easier to talk to her, okay!”

Scott dropped Stiles in surprise.  “You like dudes?”

Stiles grimaced a little and shifted his weight.  “Yeah, man.  I like dudes.  I’ve known I like dudes before I even met you.  I didn’t want to freak you out because you were the only friend I had.”

Scott just shrugged.  “I can get that, I guess.  But I don’t care, you know that, right?  I would never care.”

Stiles let his mouth tick up in a smile in hearing the earnestness of his friend’s words.  “Yeah, dude.  I know.”  He slapped Scott’s arm in some form of broship solidarity.

Scott’s return slap was a little strong, but he didn’t apologize.  “That’s for being an asshat and not telling me shit.  Now.  We’re going to play Mass Effect and eat junk food and you are gonna clue me in on all the sexy time shit you’ve done because that’s what bros do.”  Stiles laughed but conceded.  It was nice, not having this a secret.  He wondered why he ever thought it needed to be one.

When Stiles was done explaining all the girls and guys he’s hooked up with and how he didn’t believe in dating but how that totally didn’t invalidate Scott dating, just that it wasn’t something Stiles could ever see himself doing, and talking about how the beach trip was a way to blow off some steam to ignore feelings because he didn’t want them but resolutely didn’t mention _who_ he had feelings for, it was already midnight.

“Dude.”

“Sage like wisdom as always, Scott.”

Scott pushed Stiles gently but shook his head.  “Dude, but, _dude_.”

“Yes, Scott.  Thank you.”

They laughed.  “Anyway… Isaac’s a virgin.”

“So I heard.”

“We made fun of him on your behalf.”

“Thank you.”

“Derek was really worried about you.  He’s afraid the fairies will come into Beacon Hills and like, kill you or something.”

Stiles froze at the mention of Derek.  Well, okay, maybe not froze, but he tensed a bit, his pulse picked up, his cheeks flushed a little and almost anybody else wouldn’t have noticed but he was in a room with a werewolf.

“Oh my god,” Scott said pausing the game and dropping his remote.  “It’s Derek.  Your feelings crisis is over _Derek!?_ ”

“Shut up!” Stiles snapped, his cheeks growing steadily redder.

“Holy shit.”

Stiles groaned, hid his face into the palms of his hands, and accepted his fate to endless humiliation by his friend, even if Scott didn’t try to do anything.  “Please don’t say anything,” Stiles pleaded, still not looking at his friend.  “I don’t want to have these feelings and I plan on ignoring them until they go away and Derek is creepy and old and I don’t want to like him so please don’t make fun of me or try to give me advice or make suggestive eyebrows when he’s around because people pick up on that shit.  Right now only you and Lydia know and I plan on keeping it that way.”

Stiles could practically feel Scott’s face smile in understanding.  A gentle hand clasped his shoulder and shook just a little.  “Yeah, man.  Sure.”

They played video games until 3am and then promptly crashed.  It was a good night.  However, it turns out Derek’s fears weren’t unwarranted.  The fairies, it seemed, _really_ don’t like the fact that Stiles could see them.  It took a few days for the fay to figure out where he had come from and even then it started out small.  For weeks they fended off attacks.  And, okay, so they weren’t really attacks, per say.  More like elaborate pranks that often lead to acute bodily harm done to Stiles.  Tacks in his gym shoes felt very ‘Japanese High School Revenge’ to him, but to each their own.  (Hey, manga was cool.  Shut up.)  Lydia assured them, from her readings, their lack of aggression was because the territory claims made by the werewolves were keeping them at bay, for the most part.

Lydia, the goddess she was, figured out how to kick them out of the territory permanently.  Unfortunately they had to wait until the next new moon to do the spell.    

In the interim, Stiles finally went on that date, mostly to satisfy Lydia after he officially broke things off with Brian.  The date was an epic failure. 

“Oh my god, Lydia.  You are never allowed to set me up again,” Stiles groaned, flopping down next to her in the coffee shop. 

She rolled her eyes and swept her bangs out of her eyes.  “Yeah, well,” she huffed, “if you hadn’t canceled on the first guy you wouldn’t have been stuck with Gail who was a fifth choice at best.”

“Oh, excuse me for having been kidnapped,” Stiles groused. 

“Besides, it doesn’t matter.  You’re going to muck up any date I set you up on because of your feelings for a certain someone.”

Stiles rolled his eyes.  “It doesn’t matter.  Nothing’s going to come of those feelings.” 

“What feelings?” Erica’s voice boomed, her heels clicking excitedly over the linoleum.  Stiles startled in his seat to which Lydia just smirked at.  “No, seriously,” she said, her eyes narrowing as she scooted into the booth next to Lydia, “I want to know because there is something you two keep talking in code about and it’s driving me _crazy_.”

Stiles rolled his eyes.  “Well the last time you thought we were talking in code it was about the guy I was sleeping with and then you didn’t believe I had ever slept with someone, so,” he said, only somewhat bitterly.

Erica’s grin turned wild.  “Yes, exactly, because who _knew_ you were such a player.  Now what’s this one about?”

“Stiles likes someone,” Lydia said quickly before Stiles could shut up her up.  Even with his indignant shout of her name, Lydia grinned just as wickedly as Erica and continued.  “He won’t do anything about it because he doesn’t believe in dating.”

“How do you not believe in dating?” Erica scoffed.  “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Stiles rolled his eyes.  “Because it’s stupid.  People date in order to find out if this is a person I could marry and spend the rest of my life with.  We’re in high school.  I’m not sure I can even trust my taste that who I like now would be someone I would want to be with for the rest of my life.”

“He’s just afraid of heart break,” Lydia huffed.

“Yes!  Exactly.  I am willing to admit that,” Stiles countered indignantly.  “I don’t see the point in attaching myself to someone when heart break is _inevitable._   It doesn’t make sense.”

Erica and Lydia gave Stiles identical, pitying looks causing him to shift in his seat uncomfortably.  “Honey,” Lydia said, reaching across the table to place a sympathetic hand over his.  “You have feelings.  You’re breaking your own heart by trying to fight them.”

“Boys are so stupid,” Erica muttered into her styrofoam cup with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not stupid! I’m being logical,” Stiles snapped, pulling his hand away, his shoulders hunching in defense. 

“Sweetheart, if feelings were logical would I _really_ be in love with Jackson?” Lydia surmised with a tick of her eyebrow.

To that, Stiles could only groan and burry his face into his arms on the table top.  “I hate you both.”  Lydia merely tapped his hand pityingly and turning back to Erica and began chatting about the fall fashion season.  Stiles rolled his eyes and downed the last of his coffee, saying quick byes with and heading out. 

As he climbed into his jeep his phone pinged with a new text.  He pulled it out of his back pocket and saw Derek’s name lit up on the screen.  He couldn’t deny the way his heart fluttered just from seeing his name with the hopes of a non-crisis text.  “Fuck,” Stiles muttered to himself, swiping his screen unlocked and reading the clipped note from Derek asking him to come over.  Stiles stared for what felt like an hour at his phone, fidgeting in his parked jeep and readjusting his grip on the steering wheel. 

 **Yeah ok** , he sent back.  He put is phone in the cup holder and turned over the engine.  Halfway to Derek, however, his car stalled and he had to pull over.  Just as he hopped out of the car to check his engine (not that he would have known what to do about it), a blast of fairy energy came out of the woods and hit him in the chest.  “Those fuckers,” he gasped, the shot having knocked the wind out of him, just before he collapsed to the ground.  Everything was growing hazy and he felt a number of hands pulling him away from the road, from his car… _my phone’s still in the cup holder_ , he cursed to himself.  The world spun as he was dragged deeper into the woods, his car disappearing from sight completely.

Stiles tried to call out but his mouth felt like cotton.  His lips stumbled over each other as he muttered sounds that couldn’t form into words, until a moment of clarity shook him and he was able to draw in a deep breath.  “DEREK!” he shouted, before blacking out.

When he opened his eyes, he blearily saw the spindly hands of some of the fay and sharp pointed teeth.  He blinked and he saw the clear blue sky of the early afternoon.  He blinked and he saw Derek blindly swatting at the fay like flies, desperately trying to claw his way closer to Stiles.  He blinked, his vision finally clearing and his hearing coming in at full volume.  Stiles sat up, resting his weight against his hands on the forest floor, and began shouting directions so that Derek could fight. 

Then it was as if the world stilled, and his eyes zeroed in on Derek like some movie effect.  The werewolf was breathing hard, his stance still ready for attack in the silence, but Stiles could see what the others couldn’t and knew the fairies were finally gone, many lying dead and dissolving into the earth.  He watched Derek straighten and snap his head to Stiles and their eyes locked and, really, it was as if everything else faded away. 

In an instant Derek was in front of him, hauling Stiles to his feet, hands trailing up his arms, his neck, cradling his cheeks more gently than Stiles had thought Derek capable of being.  “You’re okay?” he asked, his voice rich and deep and private.  Stiles breathed out a “yeah” in response and then there were lips on his.

For a moment Stiles let himself be pulled in by the moment and the natural rhythm of hungry kissing, his lust spiking and all thoughts of threats gone.  Then Stiles remembered where he was, who he was kissing, and he pushed Derek away.  Despite the lack of ability to actually make Derek move, he still took a step away, hurt confusion on his face.  “Stiles?”

Stiles was beginning to freak out, breath going raged.  Derek called his name out again, asking if he was okay, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder which Stiles then batted away with flailing limbs and wild eyes.  “No!” he exclaimed.  “You can’t like me!  Since when do you like me?”

Derek’s hand hovered by Stiles’s shoulder but didn’t reach closer.  He looked both perplexed and guilty.  “You were just always there for me, Stiles.  And the pack.  And, I don’t know, okay.”

“Dude, I’m _sixteen_!  Do you realize how weird this is?  Honestly, it seems less creepy for whatever reason because I’m a dude, but if you saw a someone your age with a sixteen year old chick, it would be kind of disturbing right!?” Stiles prattled, the speed of his words increasing as he began to pace.  “This is weird.  You can’t like me back.  You’re not supposed to like me back.”

Derek frowned bringing his hand back to his side.  “You mean something to me, Stiles.  I’m not good with these kinds of things, but you mean something to me and I can’t help but feel things for you.  I have for a while.  I don’t know what else I can do or say.”

Stiles slumped, his panic receding but still bubbling beneath the surface.  “I’m not even going to pretend to understand what you might see in me, but-,” “There are so many reasons!” “No! But, seriously?  What did you expect to happen?  We can’t date!  I’m sixteen.  It’s not like high school romances last, anyway.”

Derek’s eyebrows scrunched together, but the corner of his mouth ticked upwards, almost shyly.  Stiles had never seen such an expression on the man’s face.  “You want this to last?” Derek asked, confused and hopeful and failing at trying to make that sound like a joke.  Stiles wasn’t stupid.

“I told myself I wouldn’t date in high school because people don’t know what they want and I didn’t want to get my heart broken,” Stiles explained, his body almost still, the anxious energy having left his body.  Instead he just watched Derek in rapt fascination. 

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Derek said in all seriousness.

“That’s not something you can promise.”

They stood in silence for several heartbeats, neither of them looking away, both of them hardly daring to take a breath.  The corner of Derek’s mouth quirked again, like his face was trying to remember how to smile, and Stiles watched as the werewolf’s eyes softened and brightened all at once.

“Can we not date in the same way Scott and Allison aren’t dating?” Derek asked.

A breath of a laugh escaped Stiles and he took a step forward, still not looking away.  “You’re an enigma, Derek Hale.”

Derek parroted Stiles and soon they were toe to toe.  “I try.”

“Obviously,” Stiles smirked, leaning up.  Their mouths crashed together in a deep kiss.  He wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck and pulled him closer, combing fingers through his hair.  He cherished the way Derek settled a hand on Stiles’s waist and snaked the other up the back of his shirt, craving the feel of skin.  It sent shivers down his spine.  Stiles pulled back long enough to say “We’re not dating,” and kissing Derek some more.

“Nope,” Derek replied between a brief separation of lips.

“Not until I’m in college.”

“Okay.”

After a moment, Stiles pulled away again, setting Derek with a meaningful look.  “Think we’ll last that long?”  It was almost a challenge, but Stiles was still wary.  How could anybody like him for that long? 

Derek merely stared right back, a mischievous glint in his eyes.  “I will,” he promised, and despite the playful tone Stiles knew he was being serious.

“Good,” Stiles breathed, before diving back in.

The next day was the new moon and they were able to enact Lydia’s spell.  It involved mountain ash and ritualistic chanting and ‘blood of the alpha’ and, of course, Stiles’s spark.  It was all very Hollywood.  It only took a few stone markers to prevent any fairy from entering ever again and now Stiles could safely stumble into a mushroom circle in Beacon Hills and not be transported to some undisclosed location. 

But, school was starting soon, and Stiles would have to go back to facing the monotony of classes and have his days hopefully be uninterrupted by supernatural mishaps.  And, if people saw himself and one Derek Hale around town together, well, Stiles had always been of the idea to let people believe what they wanted to.  Although, he did have picture proof he had at least kissed this one.

He wasn’t sure if this would last forever, but he had a good feeling about them. 

Now Stiles only had to face Lydia’s smug look until something new caught her attention. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
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> 
> Also! I'm made a webseries about werewolves! [The Werewolf Diaries](http://www.youtube.com/c/TheWerewolfDiaries)
> 
> **HEY!!! NaNoWriMo is coming up!!! Check out[my tumblr posts](https://inthearmsofathief.tumblr.com/tagged/nanowrimo) about it to learn how you can follow my original work**


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